


Sinner

by DeikaKanna



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Dubious Consent, Fallen Angel, Gratuitous Smut, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Prostitution, Slavery, Smut, Violence, angel - Freeform, slave!Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4609035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeikaKanna/pseuds/DeikaKanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is a Fallen Angel, stripped of his divinity and sent to Earth to repent for his crimes. Tony Stark is high up in the ranks of the city's underworld. He is rich, powerful, and could have anything money can buy at the snap of his fingers. When he finds the pleasure slave Loki in an expensive brothel, he has to have him. <br/>Loki knows immediately that his new master represents a turning point in his life. What he doesn't know, is if Tony will be his salvation, or his eternal damnation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a little something that's been poking around in my brains for a while. Badtimes for the boys ahead. Hope you like it :)

 

He'd known all along that it would come to this. Facing down the High Circle of Arch Angels, awaiting judgement for his crimes. He should have been worried, concerned about what his punishment would be, but in truth he was pleased to have shaken things up enough to force this gathering. Perhaps that was why he'd done it in the first place. Loki had always had a problem with authority, and Heaven was just so boring! It had been only a matter of time, really, before he stepped too far out of line and ruffled more than his usual share of feathers.

They called him Sinner. Loki had no regrets. If yearning for freedom was a sin, then so be it. He was guilty as charged.

He stood inside a beam of sunlight with his back straight, chin raised, ignoring the golden chains that linked the shackles on his wrists to the floor. Defiant to the last. Of all Loki's sins, pride had always been his greatest. Feeling a slight breeze, his wings flexed, the light picking out iridescent green feathers amid the black, making the gold tips glimmer.

"Loki."

At the apex of the semi circle of Arch Angels that had formed around him, Odin spoke. He was the oldest and wisest of them all, and although it had been as a group that the Angels had decided on Loki's guilt, it had fallen to Odin to pass judgement and determine his fate.

"We stand here today in judgement of your sins. A proud look, a lying tongue. A heart that devises wicked plots. Feet that are swift to run into mischief. Him that soweth discord among brethren. Fornication with mortals, wrath, sorcery, envy, avarice, drunkenness."

Unflinching, Loki held Odin's gaze as he listed his numerous crimes. He knew what he had done. Had known every single time that what he did was sacrilege, and each time had performed the act without guilt. There was more to life than what the Circle would have them believe. More than Heaven's rigidity and strict code of conduct. The mortals knew it. Every day of their short lives, they _lived_. Tired of his own stagnant existence, Loki had been willing to risk the Circle's wrath to experience that freedom for himself.

"In the past we have been lenient with you Loki, but your sins are many and great, and can no longer be overlooked. And so it is with a heavy heart that I pronounce your sentence." Odin's lined face was grave as he lifted his ceremonial spear and struck the floor with its shaft. A sound like the tolling of a great bell rang out from the impact point. "You are hereby banished from Heaven. I take from you your divinity, your grace, your Light." He paused, then added heavily, "Your wings."

Loki felt his heart turn to ice in his chest, blood running cold in his veins. Fear, unlike anything he'd ever known before closed his throat and for the first time since the trial had begun his arms tensed against the chains that bound him. No ... No, not his wings. By the Light, not his wings! Horrible as it was, the rest he had expected and could learn to live with, but his wings ... His wings were sky and wind and _life_ , freedom given physical form. He couldn't lose them. He would die without them!

"Odin no, you can't!" Loki struggled with his chains, becoming frantic when they refused to release him. " _Please!_ "

"I'm sorry, Loki. You've left me with no choice."

Odin struck the floor a second time and a pair of golden cords wrought from pure light wrapped around the base of each of Loki's wings, right at the point where they joined his body.

"Don't ... Don't do it, please. _Please!_ ... You're killing me! Someone stop him!" Tears slid down Loki's cheeks as he scanned the faces of the other Angels. None would meet his eyes. Even Thor, the only one among them who Loki could have called 'friend', shook his head and turned his gaze away.

Loki beat his wings desperately, trying to shake off the cords, but they only grew tighter, and then they began to twist and _pull_. Bone snapped and pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before lanced through him. His legs gave out under him and he dropped to his knees, moaning.

"Stop ... please ..."

The cords continued to pull, heedless of his begging. Muscles in his shoulders, chest and back went tight, turned to fire, tore free. Agony, equal parts pain and despair. Loki folded forward over his knees and screamed as his back was ripped open, muscle and sinew tearing through flesh until finally the last of it snapped off. His back was left a ravaged mess, twin channels of parted flesh from shoulder blades to waist gushing with blood.

His severed wings were dumped on the floor in front of him, seeping blood. All the light had gone out of the feathers, leaving them dull, black and lifeless. Kneeling in a pool of his own blood and clinging grimly to consciousness, Loki reached out for the wings, an anguished sob wrenched from his chest when his back screamed in protest of the movement. His hand slid across the floor, slick and red, fingers groping, reaching, finally wrapping around a fistful of feathers. He jerked his arm back with another sob and the feathers tore free. No one moved to stop him, and he cradled the feathers to his chest, bowed so far forward that his head rested against the floor. Pain savaged him. Despair churned deep inside him, hot and acidic.

He felt it when Odin cast the healing spell. It didn't ease the pain, but the grisly wounds on his back knitted together, not enough to mend the internal damage, but enough to stop the bleeding. Another small cruelty. Loki wished they would just let him bleed out and be done with it.

Above him, the beam of sunlight vanished, and within him, the Light flickered and died.

"Loki, you are Fallen."

He hadn't known it would come to this. Hadn't thought his crimes severe enough to warrant such punishment. The longing for freedom was truly a sin unlike any other. Tears ran down his face, blood soaked into the white fabric of his pants, and Loki knew regret.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note for clarity's sake - dialogue written ["Like this"] is spoken in Latin.

They stood side by side in the misty rain outside the brothel. In human disguise, Odin appeared as an old man, grey haired and bearded, but straight backed and able bodied, despite his apparent age. In comparison Loki was frail, all his former vitality gone. He stood with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed, hands buried in jacket pockets. His pale skin was a sickly grey, his hair dull and lank, green eyes shadowed by dark circles. Every movement caused his damaged muscles to cry out in agony so he remained still whenever possible, letting the world pass him by without interaction. He observed, though. Pain-bright eyes drifted over the building's facade, noting flaws in the stone, the too-clean patches where graffiti had been scrubbed away, the defiant flaunting of fresh graffiti, the garbage in the gutter and the warm lights that shone from the windows. Above the door, a sign done in neon and sweeping lettering cried _Guilty Pleasures_ into the night. Garish magenta light ran wet on the pavement and smudged the toe of Loki's boot.

Loki scowled, not only at the building and the depravities it held within, but at the state of the world in general and his own desperate circumstances. Back in Heaven, when he'd recovered enough from the loss of his wings to comprehend speech, Odin had informed him that all was not completely lost. He was to be taken to Earth and there, be given the chance to seek out redemption. If he could learn the virtues of humility, temperance, generosity, patience and kindness then maybe, just maybe, he would be able to undo the damage his actions had caused to himself.

It wasn't fair. When so much of himself had already been stripped away, how was he supposed to learn lessons he hadn't been able to fathom when he was whole? It made him question whether all this was really worth it. Then he was reminded of what he had lost and, forced to consider the alternative, had to grudgingly admit that yes, in the end, it was worth it. The chance to regain his wings and return to the Light was worth any price.

["Are you ready?"]

Odin spoke to him kindly, but Loki wanted to snap at him all the same. None of this would have happened if not for the old man. It was within Odin's power to give back what had been taken from him, yet he persisted with this quest for redemption.

He breathed a bitter sigh that hurt his chest and back more than it was worth.

["I'm ready."]

Apparently, Odin had made arrangements prior to their arrival, for when they entered the building a man was there waiting for them. He introduced himself as Taneleer Tivan, and Loki then knew immediately what was to become of him. He'd never met the man before, but during his numerous visits to the city of St Ellouise, had come to know him by reputation. More commonly known as the Collector, Tivan was the city's biggest and most prominent flesh trader. He practically owned the prostitution and pleasure slave markets, and boasted a collection of the most beautiful and unique wares from all over the world.

As they were lead from the entrance foyer to a private office, Loki listened to the conversation between Odin and Tivan with half an ear, hearing the word 'angel' repeated several times and knowing his fate was sealed. It didn't matter that he must look half dead - Tivan would jump at the chance to have a genuine Angel as part of his collection.

If possible, Loki folded further in on himself, wishing with all his heart that he was anywhere but here. Vicious regret gnawed at him and he barely heard a word of what was being said until one word in particular seemed to leap out at him.

"Proof?"

Raising his head, Loki cast a sharp glance at Odin.

The old man ignored him. "He is Fallen, the Light taken from him. The only proof I can offer will be his agelessness over the years, and the scars left by the removal of his wings."

Tivan raised an eyebrow and stroked the vertical tattoo on his chin. "Show me."

When Odin ordered him to remove his clothes, Loki didn't respond. It hurt too much to move, and he had no desire for this man, this _human_ , to see the evidence of his loss.

" _Loki_."

["It hurts ..."] He murmured in Latin, not expecting Tivan to be able to understand. The man surprised him by responding in the same tongue.

["Please, allow me."] He moved behind Loki and settled gloved hands lightly on his shoulders before sliding them forward to his lapels and gently easing the jacket off his body.

Loki allowed it only because he didn't have the strength to resist. And even if that were not the case, what was the point? Odin had seen to it that this man was to become his life. If he was to retain any hope of returning to Heaven, he must learn to obey without question.

The body does not always do as the mind commands. When Tivan encouraged him to raise his arms so that he might remove his shirt, Loki tried his best to do it, he really did. But halfway through the motion his muscles seized up and caught aflame. Choking back a sob of pain Loki staggered, and would have fallen if not for Tivan's arms catching him about the waist.

["Easy, lovely."] He waited until Loki could stand on his own, then released him. Mindful now of causing unnecessary pain, he simply turned Loki so that he better caught the light, and lifted the back of his shirt high enough that the scars hidden beneath were visible.

Loki hadn't seen them himself, didn't know how bad they looked. Judging from the shocked gasp that came from behind him, he guessed that they looked pretty damn bad. Shame flushed his cheeks with pink, and he couldn't meet Tivan's gaze when he walked back to his place in front of him.

"He will heal?" Switching back to English, Tivan's attention shifted back to Odin and his manner became all business. "He's of no use to me if he can't move."

"Yes, he will heal." Odin assured him. "The damage is very recent, but a month or so of recovery time and he will be fine."

"Then I will take him."

 

\------

 

After that night, life became a blur. For the first few weeks Loki existed between the constant dull ache of healing muscles and the sharper, brutal pain that came whenever he moved beyond his capability. When it became clear that he was starting to mend, Tivan arranged for daily sessions with a physical therapist, whose presence Loki was both resentful of and thankful for.

Gradually, as his health improved, Loki's training began. First with a handful of other men and women owned by Tivan, then with a select few paying clients whom the Collector trusted with the task, Loki was inducted in the ways of the pleasure slave. He learned the finer arts of pleasing a lover of any gender, learned how to use his hands, mouth and body in ways he never would have imagined on his own. He learned how to move, how to dance, how to use light and shadow to his best advantage, how to entrance with a single glance, when to be vocal, when to remain silent. Above all else, he was drilled with the importance of submission and obedience.

Taneleer Tivan was not a cruel master, but he was a hard one. His wares were lauded as the finest the city had to offer, and Heaven help the man who didn't live up to that reputation.

In the early days, Loki did what was required of him without resistance. If he ever complained, it was only in the privacy of his own mind. The belief that his obedience would see him home was enough to keep the shame and humiliation of his actions at bay and although it took some time, gradually he was able to move past those feelings altogether. It truly wasn't all that difficult. Not when even the most innocent touch of a human hand could leave him trembling with pleasure. Physical contact between Angels was pale and bland, but when a mortal was involved ... It was like wildfire running through his body. Every time it happened, it consumed him completely, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Slowly, though, as months turned into years, Loki began to wonder. He questioned himself how committing one of the same acts that had seen him damned in the first place, over and over again could possibly be the pathway back to Heaven. Perhaps, he thought, that wasn't the way after all. Maybe this was a different kind of test, and the answer was to deny the temptation and the sin.

So he began to fight. He refused to obey, rejected touches he would before have welcomed, turned violent when clients tried to force him into compliance.

Tivan punished him for it. Sometimes with beatings, more often he was locked away in a tiny room with no light and denied food and water for days at a time.

Eventually, Loki came to the bitter conclusion that there was no leaving this place. Redemption was a farce. Odin had taken his wings and his Light and dumped him in what amounted to Hell on Earth. He would never return to Heaven. He would never fly again, never feel the sun on his face or the wind in his hair. Taneleer Tivan and _Guilty Pleasures_ might as well be the whole world.

Sometimes, Loki wondered why he didn't just kill himself and be done with it. Surely death, at least, would grant him freedom. Something always stayed his hand, though. Not fear of death, but some feeling that he wasn't meant to die here, that there was yet something coming for him in life.

Perhaps it was just pride. It had, after all, always been his greatest sin.

Twelve years passed, and Loki waited.

 

**\------  
**

 

Tony was bored. Not with life in general - no, work kept him busy enough that there wasn't room for boredom. It was worse than that. He was bored with sex.

He'd tried the whole, 'find a nice girl and settle down' thing, and to put it frankly, it didn't work for him. Nice girls wanted stability and movie nights and a house with a white picket fence, two kids and a golden retriever. All perfectly acceptable things to want and in another life, he might have wanted them too. But he was in this life, and it was never going to work.

He'd tried random hookups, easy women met in shady bars, or those he encountered through work, eager to get a piece of rich and powerful Tony Stark. They were fun for a while, but vapid and greedy wasn't really his style, either.

The only women he felt he might truly have a chance to be happy with were either spoken for or - unbelievably - uninterested, so he'd recently taken to exploring the many whore houses St. Ellouise had to offer. That had been exciting for a while, and had definitely taken the edge off, but he'd still been left wanting. Something was missing from his life, and Tony was damn determined to find out what it was.

His search had finally led him to the doors of _Guilty Pleasures_ , the city's number one flesh supplier. He'd avoided the place until now, because the owner Taneleer Tivan was something of a competitor in the St. Ellouise underground. Their businesses were completely different, but their paths had crossed in the past and there was a certain rivalry that came with being among the city's shadowed powers. Tony would have preferred to stay away altogether, but it was true what people said about Tivan's wares - they were rare and exotic and if there was ever a place where he would find what he was looking for, it was at _Guilty Pleasures_.

 

\------

 

"Mr Stark, what a pleasant surprise." Tivan greeted him warmly as he was ushered into a cosy lounge. The Collector had been sitting in a high backed leather armchair, but rose as Tony entered, hand extended.

"Taneleer." Tony shook the offered hand and tried not to stare at the other man's shock of white hair. Tivan was ... eccentric, to say the least. "I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Not at all." The smile was probably supposed to be reassuring, but it came off as kind of creepy. "Though I wish you had called ahead, I could have had something prepared for you."

"Sorry. Wasn't really expecting to be here at all."

"Hm. Isn't that always the way. Come, let me show you my collection."

They walked side by side with an assistant trailing along after them, Tivan asking a bunch of questions about what Tony was looking for. His answers were admittedly pretty vague, but Tivan seemed satisfied. He sent the assistant off ahead of them with instructions to assemble a selection of bodies he thought might be to Tony's tastes.

They followed along at a slower pace, making small talk, chatting about this and that until they reached a large room that Tivan referred to as the Observatory. It was done in light, clean colours, with several expensive looking sofas arranged about the space and long drapes covering the windows, shutting out the night sky.

After a few minutes spent waiting, a group of a dozen or so scantily dressed women and men began to trickle into the room. They were all beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Even the men. It had been a drunken experiment, really, the first time Tony had become intimate with another man. He hadn't expected anything to come of it - Hell, he hadn't expected to be able to go through with it! So it had been a big surprise to him to find that he'd actually enjoyed the encounter. Perhaps it was merely the taboo still attached to homosexuality that appealed to his desire for something exciting and out of the ordinary. Tony didn't consider himself gay. But he couldn't deny, at least to himself, that he'd found his preferences shifting from female to male. A little worrying, since he had a reputation of uphold. Even more so now that he had Taneleer Tivan watching him with all the intensity of a hawk.

Tony's brows furrowed. He looked over the gathered prostitutes one by one, gaze sometimes lingering a moment or two before moving on. Lovely as they all were to look at, none jumped out at him with that 'something' he was searching for. There was a sameness to them, almost like some mass produced product. Perfect, but boring. Tony wanted something a little rough around the edges. Something exciting, something that would challenge him.

"Don't see anything you like?"

"No ..." Tony scratched his goatee idly with his thumbnail. "I'm looking for someone ... unique. Someone with a bit of a spark. You know what I mean?"

Tivan gazed at him thoughtfully. "I think I do." He turned to the gathering and clapped his hands. "Go!"

They left with a soft murmur of voices, shooting furtive glances at Tony and Tivan as they slipped out the door. Tony couldn't tell if they were pleased to have been dismissed or not. Alone again, Tivan addressed his assistant once more.

"Fetch Loki."

"Loki?" The assistant looked startled. "Are you sure, Sir? Hasn't he been a bit -" He glanced at Tony, then back at Tivan and lowered his voice, "volatile, lately?"

"I think perhaps volatile is what Mr Stark is looking for. Go." Tivan watched the assistant hurry out the door, then bestowed a smile on Tony. "The jewel of my collection, you might say. I think you'll like him."

"Him?" Tony tried not to let the concern show in his voice.

Even so, Tivan seemed to hear it. "Don't worry, Tony. The privacy of my clients is of utmost importance to me." He smiled. "And there is no shame in desire."

Tony wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he remained silent.

In time, the assistant returned with a tall, slender man in tow. The first thing about him that drew Tony's attention was the way he carried himself. Shoulders back, chin raised, there was an air of surety and importance that surrounded the man, like some old time royal. And the way he moved ... He didn't walk so much as stalk, long legs carrying him forward in a graceful glide that brought to mind the image of a large jungle cat prowling through the trees, dappled by light and shadow.

He was dressed in black leather pants that looked like they had been poured onto him, sitting low on his hips and clinging to his legs like a second skin that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. His feet were bare, as was his chest, displaying a pale, lean body with just enough muscle definition to be appealing. A gold ring circled his neck, and thick, glossy black hair was pulled back from his face in a braid that fell almost to his slender waist. Here and there, a few small gold beads had been woven into his hair, and Tony noticed a couple of black, gold tipped feathers as well.

His face was a study in masculine beauty. Pale and unblemished with a generous mouth, strong jaw, high cheekbones and a pair of the most stunning green eyes Tony had ever seen. Those eyes met his own dark gaze and Tony felt his heartbeat quicken under the intense scrutiny.

"See something you like?" Beside him, Tivan gave a smug smile.

"Yeah." Tony cleared his throat. "Yeah I think I do."

The man came to a halt a few paces away from them. His eyes held Tony's for another long moment before they shifted to Tivan, then dropped to the floor. His manner was very different to the others Tony had just seen, so he had to ask;

"Whore, or slave?"

"Slave." Tivan replied smoothly, and Tony saw the man's eyebrow twitch. "This is Loki. I can guarantee you won't find another like him anywhere in St. Ellouise."

"What's so special about him? I mean, besides ..." Tony's hand waffled in the air a moment as he tried to find an appropriate word. Finally, he just gestured at Loki and settled for, "This."

"It's said he's a Fallen Angel. Disgraced, cast out of Heaven to walk the Earth forever."

"An Angel?" Tony snorted. "You don't believe in that crap, do you?"

"I don't know what I believe." Head tilted to one side, Tivan considered the man before him. "But he has been mine for twelve years and in that time hasn't aged a day."

"Huh." Not at all convinced, Tony addressed Loki, who had been silent since entering the room. "Hi. I'm Tony."

Loki raised his eyes and frowned at him before responding in a language Tony couldn't place. He glanced at Tivan, a wordless question.

"Oh forgive me, I should have mentioned. He doesn't speak English. He's been taught a few words, but doesn't understand much. It shouldn't be a problem." Tivan smiled knowingly. "I'm sure you're not interested in his conversation."

"Yeah, right." Out of curiosity, Tony asked, "What language does he speak? I didn't recognise it."

"Latin."

"Latin?" Now he was incredulous. "No one speaks Latin anymore."

Tivan shrugged. "Angels are very old."

Loki muttered something under his breath and shifted in place, obviously growing restless. When Tivan responded sharply in the same tongue, Tony raised an eyebrow.

"You speak it too?"

"I speak many languages."

Of course he did. Right. Shrugging the matter off as unimportant, Tony gestured to Loki. "May I?"

"Of course."

He paced slowly around the tall, sullen figure, wondering what the Hell he was doing, considering hiring a Latin speaking alleged Fallen Angel. He must be out of his mind. And yet, he _was_ considering it. If nothing else, Loki had him well and truly interested. He wasn't hard on the eyes, either.

Lifting his gaze from admiring the leather clad ass, Tony followed the line of the braid up his back and frowned at the marked skin, not really seeing it for what it was at first. Then it hit him - scars. Slightly raised ridges of scar tissue on both sides of Loki's back, each easily as wide as the palm of his hand, running from his shoulder blades, all the way down to his waist.

"Whoa ..."

Before he even realised he was doing it, Tony had lifted a hand and touched his fingertips to Loki's bare shoulder. The taller man shivered at his touch and that spurred Tony on. He ran his fingers lightly down his shoulder to his back, then over the edge of one of the scars, feeling the difference between healthy and damaged flesh. Loki shuddered, then in the space between one heartbeat and the next, turned on Tony with a snarl, teeth bared, eyes flashing with some barely contained emotion.

"Shit -"

Shocked by the sudden change in demeanour Tony stumbled back out of reach, his heart pounding. Tivan's assistant rushed forward to restrain Loki, and Tivan himself snapped something at him in Latin. Loki calmed but his eyes remained bright and the assistant kept a firm hold on the ring about his neck, forcing his head back.

"I'm sorry, Tony." Tivan sounded genuinely apologetic. "He ..." He paused, seeming to be choosing his words carefully. "He hasn't reacted that badly in a long time. The injuries are very old but the scars, he's sensitive about them. I think sometimes they still cause him pain."

Tony took a deep, calming breath. "It's okay. I shouldn't have touched."

"No, you had every right." Tivan's attention shifted to Loki. "He belongs to me, and I decide if and when he is to be touched. Sometimes he forgets that."

_Or chooses to forget,_ Tony thought to himself, watching Loki's face.

Loki's eyes were fixed on Tivan, and he trembled as the Collector reached out and stroked his bared throat. Something unspoken passed between them, and Loki's eyes dropped and slid to the side, a gesture of submission if Tony ever saw one.

Satisfied, Tivan took his hand away and looked back over at Tony. "I can see you're unsure, so how about this. As a favour from one businessman to another, I'll allow you to sample him free of charge. If he does not please you, no harm done. If he does, we can talk further."

"Try before you buy?" Tony gave a short laugh. "Alright, sure."

"Very good. Follow me please."

After that display back there, Tony knew he was crazy for going along with this. The guy was obviously unstable. Somehow that just wasn't reason enough not to do it. Rough around the edges, he'd wanted. Unique, someone that would challenge him. Someone exciting. Tony followed Tivan down a few short corridors, and knew he'd found what he was looking for.

They came to a small, private room that featured another expensive couch, piled high with cushions, and faux candlelight flickering along the walls. Soft music filtered in through hidden speakers and the pleasantly warm air was lightly scented with incense. Tivan gestured for Tony to enter, then touched the small of Loki's back and murmured something to him in Latin. Loki made a small sound of assent and nodded, keeping his eyes downcast.

"I've instructed him to pleasure you orally."

Tony's eyebrows lifted, a little alarmed at that thought. "He's not gonna bite me, is he?" The image of Loki snarling at him replayed in his mind and he shuddered inwardly.

"He knows better than that." A reassuring smile, then Tivan indicated a small button by the door. "When you're done, ring the bell. Someone will come to collect you." He bowed slightly to Tony and withdrew from the room. "Enjoy."

Left alone with Loki, Tony glanced over at him to find the other man already watching him. His green eyes were focused and intent and his body was tense, waiting for Tony to act.

"Well. It's Loki, right?" Tony tossed a few cushions aside and sank down onto the couch with a sigh. Now that Tivan was gone, he looked around the room with a quirked eyebrow and allowed himself the smirk he'd hidden in the owner's presence. Expensive as it must have been, the decor looked like it had been ripped straight out of a Hollywood imagined brothel. "Gotta say, I don't care much for your boss's decorating skills." He snorted and shook his head. "Tacky."

Blank faced, Loki arched an eyebrow at him and said nothing.

"I'm sorry about before, by the way. I'm kind of a ... tactile person, I suppose you could say. Need to touch things and find out how they work. People, machines, you name it." Tony looked down at his hands as he spoke, flexing his fingers. He could feel Loki's eyes on him, sense the uncertainty in the air. "And I don't know why I'm bothering to tell you this. You can't understand a word I say, can you?"

Tony raised his eyes to find Loki frowning at him. He didn't look angry, just confused. Wary. Green eyes flickered to the door, then back to Tony and he said something in Latin. Tony spread his hands helplessly.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

With a dismissive shake of the head, Loki paced towards him on silent feet and gracefully sank down onto his knees. When he reached for the fastening of Tony's trousers, he understood what he'd been trying to say. Tony caught Loki's pale hands in his own darker ones and held them, feeling their warmth and the slight shiver that his touch produced.

"Hey, slow down." He stroked the back of Loki's hand with his thumb, amazed at the way it practically trembled in his grasp. He could tell Loki wasn't afraid - no, this was a response to pleasure. And this was just from touching his hands! Perhaps he wasn't the only tactile one among them. A flash of heat surged low in his belly when he imagined how Loki would respond to a more intimate touch, and he had to remind himself that he hadn't yet paid to use him as he pleased. "There's no rush." He said softly, releasing the captured hands.

Loki withdrew his hands and glanced up at Tony, hesitation clear on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something, his lips even moved to shape the words, but his voice remained silent. When eventually he reached for Tony again, his movements were slow and unhurried, so Tony was content to sit back and let him continue.

Pale fingers brushed over his crotch, navigated the button and carefully eased down the zipper. Tony rarely bothered with underwear, so Loki was able to draw his still mostly soft cock free without hindrance. His touch was light, but sure, and it wasn't long before he'd coaxed Tony to full hardness.

"Mmm. Damn, you're good."

It was a real temptation just to melt back against the cushions, close his eyes and lose himself in Loki's touch. Tony was going to do just that, but he glanced down first, and the sight of Loki leaning in towards him was more than enough to make him pause. The expression on the other man's face ... Resigned, hungry, cautious, eager, all mixed together into something Tony didn't have a name for. Long eyelashes lay like dark butterfly wings on high cheekbones and his breath was warm against Tony's flushed skin as he leaned in close and brushed his lips against him. Not a kiss, just a touch of lips, so light it was barely there.

It made Tony suck in a sharp breath and his hands clenched into the fabric of his pants where they were rested on his thighs. Loki's own hands came to rest over his, long fingers curling around them, using his thighs to support his weight as he slowly rose up on his knees, dragging his lips in a maddeningly gentle line up the underside of his cock. Christ, he was going to go crazy if this kept up.

When he reached the crown, Loki caressed it with his lips, kissed it gently and raised his eyes to meet Tony's enraptured gaze. Whatever he saw there made his lips twitch in the tiniest impression of a smile before his tongue came out and gave Tony's cock a firm lick, maintaining eye contact all the while.

Tony groaned and the hands clasped around his squeezed with unexpected strength, then shifted slightly, urging him to spread his legs wider. Compliance allowed Loki to shuffle into the extra space provided and he rewarded Tony with another long lick, starting at the base of his shaft and slowly moving upwards, all the way to the tip. And all the while, Loki watched him with the most intense eye contact Tony had ever encountered. It was like being caught in a spotlight, completely exposed to thousands of hidden watchers. It made him feel like he was doing something dirty and forbidden, and perhaps he was, making an Angel kneel before him and service him in this manner. He felt erotic and powerful, while at the same time feeling almost overwhelmed and close to the edge of some insanely high precipice.

"C'mon Angel-face." Tony murmured, licking his lips. "Show me Heaven."

Loki blinked at him, slowly, and that ghost of a smile returned to his lips. His eyes lowered and he placed a loving, open mouthed kiss on the crown of Tony's cock. His tongue swept out, tasting, mapping the shape of him, probing his slit. Another groan forced its way out of Tony's throat, the muscles in his thighs tensing under Loki's hands.

Loki himself made a soft, pleased sound. When he glanced up at Tony his pupils had become large and dark and his cheeks were lightly flushed. Once again holding that excruciating eye contact, he opened his mouth and slowly sank down on Tony's shaft. The sight of it was too much. Tony tore his gaze away, letting his head fall back against the couch, little tremors running through his body as he was engulfed by slick heat. Loki didn't bother taking a little at a time, or to ease himself into it. He sank all the way down in one smooth motion, throat relaxing to accept Tony's length.

"Oh shit ... Fuck ..."

It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Tony covered his eyes with his forearm, making a real effort not to thrust up into Loki's throat. He felt fingers brush over his inner thigh, work their way into his pants and gently stroke his balls.

"Nngh ..."

He did move then, a quick jerk of the hips that he couldn't control. Loki's throat constricted around him as he swallowed and those creeping fingers continued onwards, finding his perineum, rubbing gently against it, causing Tony to buck again. Loki took it without resistance or complaint. In fact, he seemed to be encouraging it. The flat of his tongue rubbed against the underside of Tony's cock and his fingers continued to probe. Every time he managed to make Tony move, a low hum rumbled in his throat that sent vibrations right to Tony's balls and made it near impossible to sit still.

Finally he reached forward and thrust his fingers into Loki's thick hair, taking handfuls of it to hold him still while he began to move his hips in earnest. He tried not to be too rough, but to be perfectly honest Tony was losing his mind. With one of Loki's hands massaging his thigh, the other carefully stimulating his balls and his mouth and throat completely given over to Tony's pleasure it was extremely difficult not to lose himself in the moment. Every time he pulled back Loki would hollow his cheeks and _suck_ , causing Tony's eyes to practically roll back in his head. The room was growing too hot, sweat making his skin damp, shirt sticking to his chest. He could feel himself drawing closer to the edge with every thrust.

"God." Thrust. "Damnit." Thrust. "Loki." Thrust. "So." Thrust. "Fucking." Thrust. " _Good._ "

Tony groaned long and loud, and Loki chose that moment to act. The hand inside Tony's pants moved, a fingertip seeking out and finding his asshole. That finger circled the puckered muscle then gently but firmly eased its way past, pushing just the tip inside. It was enough to send Tony completely undone.

" _Fuck!_ " His hips thrust upwards and his hands clenched tightly in Loki's hair, forcing him to remain in place as he came hard into the back of his throat. He felt the hand on his thigh tense, long fingers digging into the trembling muscle. Loki's throat convulsed around him, swallowing rapidly, breath coming out in harsh bursts through his nose.

"Fuck me ..." After what seemed like a long time, Tony exhaled heavily and let his fingers go limp in Loki's hair. He sank back against the couch with his eyes closed, just breathing. The feeling of Loki pulling away from him was almost too much in his hyper sensitive state and he groaned softly, eyes opening again to find Loki settling back on his heels, hair falling in disarray about his face as he furtively tried to wipe the saliva from his mouth and chin.

"Hey, stop. Here." Tony fished a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it to the bemused slave on the floor.

Loki accepted it with raised eyebrows and a soft murmur. "Gratias tibi ago ..."

While Loki cleaned himself up, Tony set himself to rights, tucking himself back into his pants, running a habitual hand through his hair and generally just taking another moment to catch his breath. He used that moment to watch Loki. The man's movements were precise, almost finicky, like a cat washing itself. Pulled free of its braid, the hair around his face was slightly wavy and Tony found himself wanting to touch it again. Not to hold him in place this time, just to feel its softness as he ran it through his fingers.

In fact, there were a lot of things he wanted to do to Loki right then. To have that lean, pale body stretched out before him, trembling under his touch as he peeled leather pants away ... To taste the sweat on his skin, watch the expressions dance over his lovely face, hear the sounds that came from his lips as Tony claimed him ...

Before he realised what he was doing he was reaching for Loki. His hand closed around his bicep and pulled him up on his knees, drawing attention to the impressive hard on trapped inside his leather pants. Seeing that made Tony's own cock twitch in response, though he groaned at the thought of coming again so soon. Even so, he kept pulling Loki towards him, his free hand moving with the intention of stroking his leather clad erection. Before he could touch him, Loki grabbed his wrist, his other hand braced against Tony's knee to keep himself from being pulled any further.

"No."

Tony paused, caught off guard by the refusal. Then Loki glanced at the door, and he understood. He'd been given the use of Loki for a blowjob. To take anything more would be considered stealing from one of the most powerful men in the city.

His hands relaxed, and Loki slowly sank back onto the floor. The pale flesh that slid through his grasp was warm and covered with goosebumps, and Tony knew that had circumstances been different, Loki would not have refused him.

He could still have him, Tony reminded himself. He just had to go and settle the contract with Tivan first. For some reason though, he was reluctant to leave the room. His eyes met Loki's and the intensity from before was still there.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Pointless to ask, but the words came all the same.

Loki gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, an even smaller shake of the head. Impulsively, Tony reached out again, to thread his fingers into the loose strands of Loki's hair and cradle the side of his face. This time Loki didn't pull away. His eyes closed and he sighed, leaning into Tony's hand.

"You are really something else ..."

Dark brows came together over his nose, but his eyes didn't open, and he didn't move. For a long time they sat like that - Loki on his knees, Tony on the edge of the couch, joined by that simple caress. Tony didn't know what it meant, only that it meant _something_. He _wanted_ , with a kind of fierce intensity he'd never known before. Loki was exactly what he'd been looking for. He had to have him.


End file.
